- Tue Dec 04, 2007 12:31 pm
walking across the pasture, after a day on the hunt for the weary and often mythical brook trout. he held is rod low, the loose line swaying from side to side with every step he took. it had been a long day but a successful one. moving further and further way from the stream that he loved so dearly, he watched a hawk drift across the sky effortlessly as though the hands of god was pushing him along. a common sight, but a magnificent one nonetheless. he took another puff of the fine hand rolled cigar he had been smoking since calling it a day on the edges of the river giving no thought to the talented hands that had tolled it thousands of miles away.continuing his walk, and following the hawk with his eyes, taking what would be his biggest misstep of the day, he felt the strange, but familiar feeling of one of the leavings from one of the cows nearby. yes, he had steeped in it.
<small>[ December 04, 2007, 12:32 PM: Message edited by: Meat.On.A.Stick ]</small>
Well, I've got a colour telly, and a fridge. I've got some pork chops in the fridge, but the chops keep going off, so I have to keep buying more.